


divide me down to the smallest i can be

by smallredboy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: First Meetings, Human Disaster Robert Chase, Interviews, M/M, Porn Watching, Pre-Canon, Trans Robert Chase, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 03:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18189404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Chase's interview doesn't go as planned.





	divide me down to the smallest i can be

**Author's Note:**

> oh this fic is a mess. for 15kisses - harsh, 100prompts - dismiss, and a prompt in the allbingo meet-ugly fest
> 
> Human Disaster Robert Chase, the fic
> 
> enjoy!

Chase doesn't relax throughout his interview, as much as he tries to. House is intimidating and handsome and he knows his father made a call and that's why he's in this room right now. 

“Your grades in med school weren't impressive,” House says, idly looking through Chase's file. “But the studies you did afterward sure are.” He looks up at him, tongue between his teeth. “What changed?” It's more of an accusation than a question. 

Chase looks away and shrugs. “I got more involved, was better-equipped to deal with my studies.”

House hums and writes something down on Chase's file. He doesn't know how to read upside down, but he's almost positive what House has written down is  _ Daddy issues _ . 

House keeps throwing questions at him— sometimes he catches them and gives the right answers, sometimes he doesn't. It still works pretty okay. 

“You'll get a call from me soon,” House tells him, eyes fixated on Chase's lips rather than his eyes. He tries to feel uncomfortable at that. “Probably, maybe. Don't count on it.”

“I'll save your number,” Chase says, taking out his phone. 

House nods and he unlocks it, and suddenly there's moaning resonating around House's office. 

He drops his phone from pure shock and stumbles, picking it back up with shaky hands as he tries to turn the volume off or to turn the video off. He stutters and his face burns— he's not getting the job now; there's not a chance in hell. 

After a few minutes of struggling (and rope being brought out in the video), he turns the volume off and closes the tab, shaking like a leaf. 

He looks up, expecting House to look at him like he's an ant and he's an exterminator about to squash him to the ground. Instead, he finds House grinning from ear to ear, an unnatural look on him. 

“I'm so sorry,” Chase says, still catching his breath, his hands still shaking. “I had forgotten—”

“Shut up, Dr. Chase,” House interrupts harshly, rolling his eyes. Chase falls into a dumbfounded silence, his mouth agape. “It's not the first time I've encountered porn, trust me,” he says like he's dismissing all his worries. Like he even  _ wants _ to dismiss all his worries. 

Chase blinks and swallows. His throat is drier than ever. “Probably the first time an interviewee accidentally made you encounter porn, though,” he points out. 

He chuckles a little, a slight mocking tone to it. His voice is still rough around the edges, still deep and downright mean. Chase likes it a bit— a  _ lot _ . “Yeah, that's a first,” he concedes. “But I don't exactly mind.”

He blinks. If anything, he expected his file to be thrown in the trash. “What do you mean—?”

House leans forward on his chair and presses his thumb to Chase's bottom lip, his blue eyes searching his for a reaction. Chase draws in a shaky breath, his heart hammering against his chest. 

“I wouldn't mind doing something of the sorts of that video with you, pretty boy,” House says. 

All air is knocked out of him. Chase attempts to make any sense of House's words apart from the rapidly increasing arousal in between his own legs— the way he wants to listen to him, to kiss him hard. To kiss him harsh and senseless. 

All that comes out of his mouth is, “That's Human Resources-worthy.”

House laughs again, moves his free hand dismissively, the one on his lip moving down to Chase's throat. His fingers ghost over his barely-there Adam's apple, an effect of hormone replacement therapy. 

Chase forgets to breathe for a second or two, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to regain control of himself. House is touching him and he's not one for hero worship (not like House is a hero), but it feels like he's being touched by something higher, better than himself. Someone godlike, maybe— someone so utterly unreachable and untouchable.

And he is being touched by him right now, House’s fingers brushing up firm on his throat. Almost a warning, a bit of a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of House’s lips. 

“I know you don't mind enough to make it to HR,” House replies. 

And Chase knows just how right he is. He draws in a breath and House's hand keeps trailing down, until he's by the collar of his shirt. 

He's thankful that his transition has been publicized, that there’s no way in hell House doesn’t know and that he has to break the news in the middle of… whatever  _ this  _ is. As much as he’d like to stay and be at House's mercy, he can't, and he shouldn’t. 

House is still looking at him like he's a puzzle to figure out, his ice gaze glinting and burning. Always harsh and demeaning, looking for more and for more answers.

House pops open the first button or Chase's shirt and a ragged breath is taken out of his mouth. Chase pulls him away by grabbing his wrist and stands up.

“I have to go,” he manages to say. He  _ doesn’t  _ have to go, and he  _ doesn’t  _ want to go. 

He grins at him wickedly. “You're hired,” he says. “Monday.”

Chase swallows again, and goddammit, he really does need a drink. 

“Thank you for the opportunity,” he says, falling back onto the well-rehearsed words after every interview.

He says it like it's been a normal, usual interview in any sense of the word and slips out the door, his heart still hammering hard against his chest.


End file.
